


And Then Some

by myracingthoughts



Series: Hallmark Holiday Movie Bingo [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Diners, Developing Relationship, F/M, Hot Chocolate, Love Confessions, Phil Coulson is Skye's Father, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27817735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myracingthoughts/pseuds/myracingthoughts
Summary: “Daisy. I’ve got an early bird special that’s about to turn in brunch if you don’t get it on the table soon,” Davis shot from the kitchen.“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Daisy groused, straightening her apron as she reached for the plates.Davis chuckled, “You trying to impress him still?”“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”Daisy tried to ignore the “Sure” wafting up over the sound of the fryers as she beelined for her only morning customer sitting in a booth at the window.
Relationships: Skye | Daisy Johnson/Daniel Sousa
Series: Hallmark Holiday Movie Bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035525
Comments: 16
Kudos: 82





	And Then Some

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! Welcome to the first fic from my Hallmark Holiday Movie Bingo. You can find a full list of fic titles/pairings [here](https://pasmonblog.tumblr.com/post/634579786258432002). I also post release dates in my [Fanfic Friday round-ups](https://pasmonblog.tumblr.com/tagged/fanfic-friday) on Tumblr if you’re looking for a sneak peek.
> 
> This fic checks off my 'Hot Cocoa' bingo square.

“Order up!”

Daisy Johnson was about ready to toss that stupid bell through the dumb kitchen if Davis didn’t get his shit together. It was bad enough that she stuck with the crack of dawn hours, but the constant ringing and reminders for orders that took about 10 minutes too long were grating on her last nerve.

Such was 24-hour diner life. Remember when she took this job out of pity for her dad, to have something to do during college? Yeah, now Daisy had basically accepted her ‘diner lifer’ status, somewhere between trading perfume for perpetually smelling like coffee and hashbrowns.

Which sounded good in theory, but in practice? Not so much.

Server life wasn’t the worst, but the lack of customers in the early mornings meant less in tips. And less in tips meant she was no closer to paying off her student loans. And if he dad tried to coerce her into liquidating some of the equity of the business _one more time_ , she might actually combust.

She would do things her way, interest rates be damned.

“Daisy. I’ve got an early bird special that’s about to turn in brunch if you don’t get it on the table soon,” Davis shot from the kitchen.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Daisy groused, straightening her apron as she reached for the plates.

Davis chuckled, “You trying to impress him still?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Daisy tried to ignore the “Sure” wafting up over the sound of the fryers as she beelined for her only morning customer sitting in a booth at the window.

“Early bird special,” Daisy announced, setting the plates down and getting a good look at her guest. 

It wasn’t the first, or even the third look she’d given him. Everything from the sharp jawline, that scruffy salt and pepper hair and those warm brown eyes just seemed to draw her in. The smile was an added bonus, as far she was concerned —making her stomach flip flop under her apron.

But this regular, for some reason, was one of the only reason she hadn’t complained to her dad about her scheduling.

Not that she’d ever admit that out loud.

He flashed her one of those smiles, “Thanks. Hey, it’s Daisy, right?” 

“Yep, that’s me,” she confirmed with a smile. 

Daisy was pretty sure he’d only heard her name in passing, as none of them wore name tags. She assumed after a few weeks of seeing him almost every morning, it’d rub off on him at some point. Between Davis’s shouts and her dad’s occasional early morning visits, it must have slipped.

“I’m Daniel,” he said, hesitantly offering a hand. “Figure I should finally introduce myself considering you’re the most human contact I get most days.” 

“Is mailman life really that lonely?” Daisy asked with a smile, quickly shaking his hand and trying to ignore how well it fit over hers.

“I feel like between the weird hours and the colourful clientele, we have a lot to commiserate over,” Daniel chuckled.

“Well, now I can put a name to your order.”

“I’m that predictable, huh?”

“I mean, you do order the same thing every single day. Without fail. Maybe _reliable_ is a better word?” she laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make fun of you, I just—”

“No, no. It’s fine,” he said with a dimpled smile. “It’s nice to hear you laugh— you have a nice laugh, is all.”

Something about that made her stop and stare, wondering if it was a genuine compliment or creepy. That was her waitress brain at work, trying to force her into her robotic customer service mode that took over most days during their peak time. But something in his eyes told her he wasn’t bluffing or rude, or maybe it was the postal service uniform he came in with every day that added this warm, neighbourhood familiarity to him, but either way, she trusted him. Even if she didn’t know why.

Maybe he just had one of those faces.

“Thanks.”

It was the next morning when Daisy got the guts to ask him more about himself, watching his eyes light up as he gave her the rundown of his typical route. The old ladies who’d offer him a glass of water on hot days, or sweets to take home when the weather cooled down. She found herself leaning over across the table on those quiet mornings, listening to him talk, watching that smile. 

Those eyes. 

His lips.

“The holidays are the worst. I mean, what do I do with four fruitcakes?” He asked, and Daisy would laugh until tears came to the corner of her eyes as he recounted his mail-related horror stories.

Daisy’s favourite story was about the white-haired matchmaker on the corner of Elm who’d always ask whether he was married. Daniel explained he’d bashfully admit he wasn’t, the pink tinge across his cheeks giving away that it was very much a sore spot, so Daisy didn’t pry. 

Even if she did want to joke that she was clearly hitting on him.

And every morning after that, for weeks, Daisy would spent more pre-dawn time in Daniel’s booth than on her feet. It was almost always just them, alone in the diner —or, as good as alone, with Davis too lost in his headphones to bother listening in to their conversations. She started to look forward to her early morning shifts, to the surprise of her dad.

So when Daisy woke up too congested to breathe out of either nostril, the familiar pang of disappointment set in, realizing she’d have to call in sick. She was half-way through her sixth rewatch of the X-Files when the front door swung open, a steaming take-out container of diner soup in her dad’s grasp.

“How are you feeling, kiddo?”

“Like death,” Daisy croaked. “Maybe a little better than death now.”

He set down the container, chicken soup by the looks of it, and sat down on the couch, palm to her forehead.

“Still warm,” he murmured. “You sure you don’t need anything else? Mom should home in a few hours, but I have to run back to the diner, unless…?”

“Soup is great, dad. I’ll be fine,” Daisy assured, not wanting to keep him at home on her account. “I just need to sleep this off.”

He nodded, pulling the covers further up and tucking her in like he used to when she and Kora were much younger.

“I met Daniel today,” Coulson said in an anything-but-casual tone. “He sends his well wishes, and may have gotten mobbed outside the diner by a few dogs.”

Daisy snorted, “He carries treats in his pockets. It happens a lot.”

She tried to play it airy and casual, but the clogged sinuses took their toll.

Coulson’s knowing smile said he didn’t quite buy it, “He seems nice.”

“He’s a dork,” Daisy chuckled.

Coulson hummed in response, the sort of non-committal “Mhm” reserved for little white lies and convenient excuses. But he didn’t push. He just fluffed Daisy’s pillow a little, brought her a fresh mug of tea and kissed her on the forehead before he left.

Daisy didn’t mention their father-daughter exchange the next day she saw Daniel —their interactions were always so effortless that it was easy for Daisy to push back her dad’s teasing.

It was the perfect December day the morning Daniel wasn’t quite himself. Rubbing his hands together to bring some warmth back, his smile wasn’t quite as bright and didn’t quite reach his eyes. Daisy was ready to brush it off as just a bad day, or maybe just the seasonal blues. Part of her wanted to ask him what was wrong, but maybe that was too nosey?

So when she sat down at his booth for their usual pre-order chat over their matching black coffees, she didn’t expect him to come right out with it.

“They’re changing my route tomorrow, so this might be the last breakfast I have here for a while,” Daniel admitted, sounding a little more sad than someone should at something as small as a scheduling change. 

But Daisy seemed to feel it too, a lump in the pit of her stomach that made it harder to look at him. They’d spent a whole season together, from when the leaves were lush reds and oranges, to the white fluff blanketing the city and the diner along with it. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I’ll probably have to find a new spot,” Daniel added.

Daisy managed a half-smile, “Well, I’ll miss our early morning talks.”

He held her gaze in silence for a beat like he was searching for something. Waiting for something, maybe? Was there something she was supposed to say? She couldn’t think over the sound of her heart thumping against her ribs.

“Yeah, me too.”

The lump in her throat didn’t quite go away at his assurance, and she tried to find the words to say but was coming up empty. Still, even if she didn’t know the best way to respond out loud, maybe there was some other way she could make his last diner stop special?

“Well, since it’s your last time, how about you try something a little different for breakfast?” Daisy proposed. “Take a risk. Live life on the wild side.”

And there it was, one of his usual smiles that brought out the dimple in his cheek, “Sure. Surprise me.”

After a quick double-check for allergies or preferences, Daisy got to work, sliding an order slip across the stainless steel to a wide-eyed Davis.

“He sure about this?” He asked, eyebrows raised.

Daisy laughed, “Just shut up and get plating, please.”

Davis shot her a mock two-finger salute and a grin, “Yes, ma’am.”

She kept Daniel distracted with conversation, though the smells from the kitchen were hard to ignore. The cinnamon, nutmeg and chocolate wafted in through the back, making the diner smell like Christmas had come early. It wasn’t long before Daisy arrived with three plates and a mug, stacked high with pancakes and all the fixings. But the cherry on top was Daniel’s expression as she slid a warm slice of apple pie onto his table.

“Pie, for breakfast?”

She was a little offended by his tone, but tried not to take it personally.

“Technically it’s dessert. For after the rest of your meal,” Daisy explained with a grin. “Or eat it first, I’m not going to judge.”

Daniel had the look of a kid on Christmas morning, exploring the plates and the whipped cream-topped mug, “And cocoa?”

“My special mix,” Daisy added, but Daniel was halfway through his first sip.

“Tastes just like my ma used to make,” Daniel sighed before his face screwed up at Daisy’s giggles. “What?”

“You have a little…” Daisy reached over with a napkin, dabbing at his whipped cream moustache and time seemed to stop for that one moment, hand frozen in mid-air as they stared at each other.

“Daise, phone’s for you!” Davis called from the kitchen.

Offering a quick apology, she dashed to the backroom to have a longer than usual call with their obnoxious suppliers (who were late, _again_ ). Daisy didn’t see Daniel leave, just a stack of bills left on his table, along with a 50% tip. Not that unusual for him, as far as he was concerned. Still, it was hard to shake the frowny feeling in her gut that she didn’t get to see him off on his last visit.

By the time she got to the end of her shift, her feet were aching, head throbbing, and she was about ready to toss Davis’s bell directly at his forehead. Had it not been for her mid-day regular, Trip, it might have actually happened.

“Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?” Trip asked, reading her expression at frightening speed.

Daisy was peeling herself out of her apron, leaning against Trip’s booth as he sipped on a mug full of coffee. Kora was just getting suited up in the back to take over, having rushed across the city straight from class.

“It was just a _day_ ,” Daisy said, not wanting to elaborate or just why the thought of Daniel never coming back filled her with this hurt longing she couldn’t quite name.

“I’ve seen that face before. Mr. Mailman not show up this morning?”

“Trip!” Daisy hissed. “I told you not to call him that. His name is Daniel, and he _was_ here this morning, but they’re putting him on another route.”

Trip’s eyes widening, smile forming like he knew a secret she didn’t, “And you didn’t get a chance to ask him out.”

“Who says I _wanted_ to ask him out?”

“Your face. Yep, that one you’re making right now.”

Daisy rolled her eyes, not wanting to dignify that with a response. Sure, she maybe had a crush on him, but Trip was the last person who should be giving her love advice. Mr. One Night Stand over here wasn’t exactly the bearer of long-term relationships. But, he was just looking out for her —she knew that— so Daisy tucked away her jab and resumed packing away her things so she could head home.

“Who is _that_ fine specimen and why are is he making moon eyes at you?”

Daisy barely had a chance to process the jingle of the bell over the door as she caught Trip’s wide eyes and followed his gaze.

“Wha—?”

Daisy spun on her heel, apron still in hand as she gaped at the figure that just stepped through the door. He had just pulled his hood back, covered in a layer of fluffy, melting snow that dripped onto the white tile floor as he smiled at her. Suddenly Daisy felt warm all over, tossing her apron and tip envelope on Trip’s table as she closed the gap between them.

“Daniel, what are you doing here? I was just about to—”

“Get off work? That’s what I was counting on, actually,” Daniel murmured, biting his lip as he looked down on her. “I was wondering if I could take you to dinner. Might have made a reservation—”

“Of course you did,” Daisy said with a smirk, fingers playing with the zipper of his jacket. “Yes, of course.”

“You’re not going to ask where we’re going?”

“One of us has to be a risk-taker,” Daisy said with a bit of a lilt.

Not that she got to gloat, as she air was ripped from her lungs as he pressed his lips to hers. Daisy’s fingers curled into his hair, his hand warm on her cheek as she stood, shell-shocked, in the entrance to the diner. She tried to drown out of the whoop from Trip a yard away, but the ghost of a smile was still on her lips as they pulled back for breath.

“A risk-taker, huh?” Daniel’s breath was on her face, minty fresh and warm.

Her mouth was still tingling from the surprise, blood thudded in her ears as she tried to remember how to form words again. Daisy cleared her throat and pushed her hair out of her face, eyes never leaving his.

“Well, if it’s with you, I know it’ll be good. Plus, I’d miss you too much.”

“Miss me _too much_ , huh?”

Daisy leaned into his chest staring up at him through her eyelashes. 

“And then some.”

**Author's Note:**

> **Song title credit:[And Then Some by Arkells]()**
> 
> Thanks so much for reading. All comments, kudos and bookmarks are loved and cherished.


End file.
